


Talking in Your Sleep

by Lapislaz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, scully/skinner - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapislaz/pseuds/Lapislaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Betcha didn't know Scully talked in her sleep, did you. Well, Skinner does now...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking in Your Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Walter Skinner, Dana Scully, and Fox Mulder are creations of Chris Carter and property of 20th Century-Fox and 1013 Productions. I've borrowed them without permission, but also without profit motive. And believe me, they'll be a *lot* happier when I'm done with them. Honest.
> 
> This story was nominated for a Wirerim Award, in the category of Best Skinner/Scully story. And even though it didn't win, it's the first story I've ever had nominated for anything - so I'm unabashedly proud of it.

Suddenly, there were two of him.

Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI quickly closed her eyes and shook her head fractionally in an attempt to shake the shake the rather intimidating vision of two Walter Skinners out of her fatigue- poisoned brain.

Intimidating? More like intoxicating...

Pay attention, Dana - he's staring straight at you. I think you missed something.

"Agent Scully, are you all right?"

"Yes sir, I'm - I just haven't been getting much sleep the last few days."

"Why not?"

"Uh..." For some reason she did not want to tell Skinner that her last two nights had been spent at her partner's apartment, nursing him through a severe flu bug. Leave it to Mulder, she thought. He gets sick almost as often as he gets shot. "It's nothing, sir. I'll be all right after a good night's sleep."

She could see that the explanation had not gone over well - Skinner was staring at her over the top of his steel rims. Just as he was about to express his opinion of the excuse, she was saved by the phone.

"Skinner. He wants what? Right now? Kim, I'm in a meeting. Tell him I'll be up in about 20 minutes." Skinner put the phone down in it's cradle and began to turn his attention back to Scully, but before he could open his mouth the phone rang again. "Skinner. Kim, I told you - oh, he did. Oh. OK, tell him I'll be right up." Replacing the phone again, Skinner looked over at Scully and sighed.

"Agent Scully, I have to go up to the DD's office for a few moments. I know you're tired, but there are still a few more questions I'd like to ask you. I'd appreciate it if you could wait for me - 10, 15 minutes, tops."

"No problem, sir. I'll just wait right here."

"Thank you. I'll be right back." Skinner reached into his desk and grabbed the file he wanted and headed for the door. Scully relaxed into the big overstuffed leather chair. She wondered what had happened to the chair that was usually there, and then remembered Kim saying something about Skinner asking her to re-arrange the furniture in his office - something about having some of the chairs reupholstered, or having a larger conference table installed for task force meetings.

Not that she minded - the comfy chair was a vast improvement over the one waiting for her in the basement. If Skinner really wanted her to wait, then wait she would. She stared out the half-open blinds behind his desk, watching the grey sky empty itself onto an already drenched city. The rain pattered on the window softly, a sound not audible above normal conversation.

Her thoughts began to wander, daisy-picking among the events of the last several months, surprisingly avoiding the traumatic; instead gathering the most ordinary scenes of her life - Mulder munching sunflower seeds at his desk while nose-deep in a file, her mother fixing dinner, following Skinner down a hallway watching his incredibly well-built ass...

...onnoletsnotgothere.

Why not?

Because, you stupid broad, you're in his office and he'll be back any minute and if you're all hot and bothered when he gets back he might get the idea you were all hot and bothered over him...

And your point is? Face it Dana Katherine, your boss is the hottest thing in the men's department since Eve jumped Adam. And if you had your way you'd climb him like a tree and let him shake you like a leaf...

Lost in her fantasies, lulled by the quiet warmth of the office and the gentle rain sounds, Special Agent Dana Scully slipped quietly, deeply, into dreamland.

* * *

As Skinner walked by his secretary's desk, he paused. "Any calls?"

"No sir. Agent Scully is still in your office, though..." Kim trailed off and grinned. "At least, her body is."

Skinner, who had been about to breeze on through, caught the grin and stopped. "Her body?"

"Yes sir. I went in a few moments ago to put the Ingraham file on your desk. Agent Scully is still there, all right - still in the chair in front of your desk - and sound asleep."

"Asleep?" Skinner allowed himself the merest hint of a smile.

"Out cold, sir. She's even snoring." Her grin got wider. "I spoke to her, but she didn't wake up. I guess she's had a hard couple days - you know Agent Mulder has been out with this terrible flu bug that's going around and office rumor says she's been taking care of him..."

The faint smile on Skinner's face was replaced with a much more normal looking scowl. "Kim, are you in the habit of repeating office gossip?"

Not intimidated at all, Kim looked innocently up at him. "Only to you, sir." Unable to think of a suitable answer, Skinner grunted. He turned to enter his office, then stopped. "Kim, what appointments do I have this afternoon?"

"You have one with Agents Riordan and Bruck at 2 in regards to the Green Bay extortion case, and a teleconference with ASAC Mailander of the Los Angeles office at 3:30."

"Find an empty conference room for 2, then call Riordan and Bruck and tell them I'll meet with them there. Then call Mailander and try to reschedule for Monday. And as far as anyone else is concerned, I'm in conference for the rest of the day and can't be disturbed. Especially Agent Mulder - if he's that damn sick, he shouldn't be calling anyway."

"Yes, sir!" Kim's smile was at her boss's back, but she said nothing else. A good secretary, she knew her boss well, and she knew that he hated to be reminded of his soft spot for his agents. He was A.D. Skinner, who kicked butt, took names, and chewed ass for dinner, with a royal reaming for dessert.

And she wasn't about to blow his cover.

Skinner walked into his office and closed the door as quietly as he could, then crossed to his desk and sat down. He looked at the woman sitting across from him, her head slumped forward, the faintest of snores emanating from her in time with the rise and fall of her chest. He knew that what he really ought to do was wake Scully up, finish the interview, and find someone to drive her home - she was obviously in no condition to be at work, much less behind the wheel.

But something inside of him would not let him wake her. She looked so peaceful, so serene in her slumber that his conscience wouldn't let him do anything that might disturb her first chance at rest in days. If she needed the sleep that badly, then he would do the next best thing he could - and let her sleep.

He bent over the work on his desk.

* * *

Coming back into his office after his 2 o'clock, Skinner walked quietly over to his desk, trying his best not to disturb his sleeping agent. As he reached his goal, he became aware of a soft noise - and looked carefully at Scully. Her lips were moving as if she was talking - though very softly. Her breathing seemed to be more rapid than normal, and her hands gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in. She's talking in her sleep, he thought, dreaming.

What do you suppose red-headed FBI agents dream about, Walter?

Hell if I know. A certain brown-haired FBI agent, maybe?

Maybe - but wouldn't you really rather she was dreaming about you?

Yeah, right - this drop-dead gorgeous woman is gonna be having daydreams about her 40+, balding, hard-assed boss. Especially when she spends 90% of her time around a man who looks like he's straight out of GQ. But God, I'd love to have a chance to show her why Marines look for a few *good* men...

Ssshhhhhhh! Moaning? From Scully?

The vague, inarticulate noises continued as Skinner considered walking around his desk and kneeling next to her chair. Did he really want to know what or who was inhabiting Scully's dreams? Surely if there was one thing he owed this woman after the traumatic events of the past few years, a little privacy to dream was one of them. But curiousity finally got the best of him. Moving around and dropping one knee on the floor next to her, he leaned over to listen. A tantalizing fragrance made his nose twitch - just a touch of something herbal combined with the unmistakable scent of an aroused woman.

Oh, boy, This was a *big* mistake.

Whaddya mean, mistake? She smells wonderful! Shhh, listen...

Skinner looked carefully into Scully's face. He could see her eyes moving to and fro under her eyelids in REM sleep. A light sheen of sweat covered her brow, she was breathing heavily, and her parted lips were releasing tiny moans, interspersed with one word over and over again.

His own name.

Walter Skinner rocked back on his heels, astounded at what he had just heard. Dana Scully appeared to be having an erotic dream - about him. His body reacted enthusiastically to that notion, and he began to feel the blood heat center in his groin.

Oh, dear God, I did *not* have to know that. I am never going to be able to look her in the eye again.

Skinner walked back around the desk and sat down. Turning towards the window, he leaned back in his chair and pondered his next move, trying desperately to think of cold showers, dead bodies, anything to stop the raving sex maniac that had suddenly taken up residence in his slacks from getting the upper hand. The fact that Dana was still moaning softly was not helping in the slightest.

Get a hold of yourself, man.

C'mon, Walter - you want her, she wants you, this is a problem?

This is a problem - sexual harrassment charges are the last thing I need right now.

It's only harrassment if she says no. And from what you just heard she's not gonna do that, right?

What about office politics? And the OPR? The last thing Dana needs is to be accused of sleeping with the boss.

They already think she's sleeping with Mulder - and technically, he's her boss, right?

Oh, Gods, Mulder. What if she is sleeping with him...people have fantasies all the time about people they don't want or can't have.

Only one way to find out, Walter - either ask her or ask Mulder.

A vision leapt into his brain of him confronting the two agents about their sleeping habits - Mulder looking at him with a combination of smugness and amusement, and Dana looking at him with daggers in her eyes.

Yeah, right. Never mind.

Still, Walter - there's gotta be a way. You've faced Marine drill sergeants, Viet Cong guerillas, serial killers, mad bombers ... hell, you've been *dead*. And one 5-foot-2 redhead female is reducing you to a quivering mass of insecurity.

And your point is?

*Do* something about it, Walter - if you want her, go after her. She's not gonna just jump in your lap and beg for it. That's not her style.

You're right about that - she's more likely to jump in my lap and cut it off if I get out of line.

Ouch. So let's not get out of line - c'mon Walter, you know how to court a lady! And she is *definitely* a lady - even if she can shoot better than you.

Pondering his options, Skinner turned back to his desk and his work, trying desperately to ignore the beautiful woman on the other side of it. Ice cubes, dirty laundry, the county landfill on a hot day ...

* * *

Dana Scully felt warm and safe. She realized she was sitting up and in a few moments the angle her head was at would induce a neck cramp, but even impending pain wasn't enough to make her want to move just yet. The room was quiet, the rain pattering steadily against the window, the sound of a whispered conversation...

Conversation?

Suddenly, Scully realized she was still in Skinner's office, and there were at least two other people in there with her talking in hushed tones.

Oh, shit, I fell asleep.

Maybe he didn't notice - it was only for a few minutes, right? I was just resting my eyes. That's it, just resting my eyes. That's my story - and I'm sticking to it.

Lifting her head and opening her eyes, she found herself staring into Walter Skinner's dark chocolate eyes. Glancing away for a nanosecond, she spotted Kim leaving the room on tiptoe, obviously trying to sneak out quietly. Then her gaze returned to Skinner's almost involuntarily. There was something odd about the way he was looking at her, she thought. Almost - merry? amused? There was something else, too - something warm, welcoming. Her sleep-fogged brain struggled with the notion.

Then his face changed, so quickly that Dana wasn't sure she had seen anything at all beyond a ghost of a smile and sardonic lifted eyebrow. "Have a nice nap, Agent Scully?"

"Sir, I apologize. I've been ..."

"Don't bother explaining, Scully. I understand - it hasn't been that long since I had a partner myself - though he wasn't nearly as high maintenance as Agent Mulder. Partners take care of each other." Skinner leaned forward and closed the case file on his desk. "We'll take care of the rest of this Monday. Now, you're going home."

"Home? But's only 1:30 or so ... isn't it?" She looked down at her watch and Skinner saw a horrified look cross her face. "Oh, God - sir, I'm so sorry I had no idea..."

"Never mind, it doesn't matter, Scully." He glanced at the paperwork on his desk, and folded everything up. "I've done my bit for democracy today - come on, I'll take you home. And I don't want you back in this building until you've had at least six hours of sleep."

"Really, sir, it's OK, I can drive myself home."

"Agent Scully, in this office I have had many years of practice assessing the talents and capabilities of agents under my supervision. And under normal circumstances I would have no quarrel with you getting into your car and going home. But if you're tired enough to fall asleep in my office, you are too tired to be driving yourself around in DC traffic." Skinner looked down at his desk and shuffled a folder around nervously. "It's still raining, the roads are wet, and the general populace is doing it's usual homicidal best to take each other out. If I let you get in a car right now, as tired as you are, and something happened to you, I would never forgive myself. So please, Dana, go get your things and let me take you home. Please?" He found himself fixating on the file in his hand, too apprehensive to look up and see what effect his tiny breach of protocol might have had on her.

Silence, then..."All right, sir." Her voice was soft, like the rain on his window, he thought. "I'll be right back." She walked silently out of the room as he watched her go.

Walter Skinner shivered. This was not going to be easy.

But he was going to try his damnedest.

* * *

Dana Scully was confused.

Happy, but confused.

She had slept in this morning, trying to catch up on the lost hours at Mulder's bedside. Skinner had driven over to Georgetown and delivered her to her doorstep, insisting on walking her to her door. There had been an awkward pause at the door, as she thanked him for the ride home, and then invited him in for a cup of coffee. He had refused politely and turned to leave, then hesitated, turned back, and rather gruffly asked her if she would have dinner with him tomorrow night.

Which had led to this moment - her seated in a quiet booth in the back of one of Annapolis's nicer restaurants, waiting for her boss to come back from the men's room. She was stuffed to the gills with chicken carbonara and pasta salad, washed down with a single glass of white wine and several gallons of iced tea. All in all, she felt like she needed to find a flat rock to nap on in the sun while she digested her meal.

Gods, I haven't eaten this much in years! What ever possessed me to make a pig out of myself in front of my boss? For that matter, what possessed me to say yes when he asked me to dinner?

I'll tell you what possessed you - lust. Pure, unadulterated, hot and heavy lust.

So? You've been horny before - hell, Dana, you've been horny for years. Every relationship you might have had in the past six years has gone down the drain long before you made it to the bedroom - either because they couldn't handle your schedule or measure up to your standards. You've worn out so many vibrators since you joined the X-Files that the Xandria Collection has probably declared you their patron saint - or at least memorized your Visa number.

What about Mulder?

What *about* Mulder, Dana. If he hasn't made a try for you in six years, he ain't gonna. With your luck, he's gay and doing a sometime gig at the local La Cage whenever you're in town. Remember that time in Florida when you brought the wine to his room - he ran like a rabbit! If he wanted you, he wouldn't have run.

Well, Walter's *not* gay.

You're right there - he might be bi, but he's definitely interested in you, girl! He hasn't been able to take his eyes off of you - and gorgeous eyes they are, too, especially when he smiles. Which he really ought to do more often.

On the other hand, if he did that at work he'd never get any work done, because he'd be on the run 24/7 from the secretarial pool.

Skinner walked back from the bathroom, having spent more time than absolutely necessary to relieve himself in a vain attempt to rid himself of the half-erection he had been successfully concealing ever since he had handed Dana into the car.

Thank god for loose dress trousers. Down, boy!

At least she seems to be enjoying yourself, even if she is torturing you. Did you see her put away the pasta?

Good to see her eat like that, actually. If she's eating, she's healthy. And in Dana's case, there is no such thing as too much worry about her health.

Amen, brother - you're preaching to the choir on that one. God, we came too damn close to loosing her last time...

Yeah, we did - but she is still here with us, and is now healthy as the proverbial horse. She looks like she could lick her weight in wildcats.

Wouldn't you much rather she lick you?

Walter groaned inwardly and stopped dead in his tracks - his shaft was no longer at half mast, and his jacket, while able to cover a multitude of sins, was not up to this task. Damn - back to the bathroom...

He reversed course - right smack dab into a hurrying waitress armed with four platters of assorted pasta and sauce.

* * *

***CRASH***

The sudden clatter of crockery and silver brought Dana out of her semi-somnolence - what was that? Oh no...poor Walter!

Now there's a sight you don't see everyday - an Assistant Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation with marinara sauce on his head. Not to mention the pesto on his shirt, the clam sauce on his left jacket sleeve, and the alfredo sauce in a most suggestive spot on his black slacks.

My, mymymymy.

And such nicely filled slacks they are, too. Oh, yeah.

Mmmmmmmm - I think I've suddenly changed my mind about dessert.

OK, girl - play it cool. He's been in the john a long time - he could have gotten that stiffie from anyone besides you - a waitress, another patron, anyone. It doesn't mean he plans on *you* getting any of it...

Oh yeah? Then why did he ask me out to dinner? Why has he been making such excellent conversation, asking about my family, telling me about his, deliberately NOT talking about work - I've learned more about Skinner tonight than I have in the entire 5+ years I've worked for him.

Oh, he's interested in you, all right - but he's not planning on using that monster tonight, honey. You watch. He's gonna take you home, walk you to your door, tell you what a wonderful time he had ... and send you into the house alone, and leave.

Hmm - you might be right. If our Mr Skinner is anything, he is a gentleman. And a true gentleman does not press his attentions on a real lady on the first date. There's just one problem with his logic, though...

Yeah? Whazzat?

I am no lady.

Oh yeah - I forgot. Lets go, girl! Oh, here he comes, they finished cleaning him off, finally - did you see the look he gave that busboy who tried to wipe up the alfredo sauce? Heads up, girl! We are gonna get laid tonight!

* * *

Well, here we are, back at her place, safe and sound.

"I had a wonderful time, Scully." Oh, great, how original. You are *such* a loser, Walter. Any minute now you're gonna invite her over to see your 'etchings'.

Shut up! She's talking to you!

"I *am* having a wonderful time, Sir - so wonderful that I don't feel like ending the evening yet. Why don't you come on in and have some coffee, I'll put on some music, we'll talk some more. OK? And you will promise to call me Dana, and I will call you Walter." She looked up at him hesitatingly. "Is that all right?"

"Sure...Dana". His effort was rewarded by a sweet smile that lit her whole face.

Hey, whaddya know, Walter - she knows your first name! This is good, Walter, very good. And she wants to be called by her first name, too - this is excellent!

Oh, God, she wants to talk some more, in her home, with music no less. And the tone of her voice - so soft, inviting, sexy...

Well, maybe just one cup of coffee.

Skinner said nothing out loud, but followed Dana into the apartment, closing the door behind him carefully and setting the lock out of habit. Dana watched him and controlled her urge to grin.

Is he locking us in or the rest of the world out?

Dunno, honey, but either way works for me.

Scully headed for the kitchen. "Take off your coat and stay a while, Walter. I'll start the coffee - why don't you put some music on?" She reached for the coffee filters. Behind her she heard the sounds of Walter moving around her apartment - a quiet swish as he hung his jacket on the coat tree, steps into her living room, a high squeak as he opened the glass door to her stereo system.

Let's see what he chooses. Something quiet, serene? Romantic? Rock 'n roll? Oh, shit, I should have hidden all the disco albums. They're great to exercise to, but a they are *not* a backdrop for seduction.

Seduction?

Well, if it ain't seduction, what is it?

A request for cooperation?

Shit - sounds like a damn 302 for him to sign.

Never mind that. You already know he wants you - all you have to do is let him know you're willing, and convince him that this is a good thing. Preferably before you both die of old age.

Then the strains of an orchestra reached her ears, and a soulful baritone voice singing "As Time Goes By". Ahhhh - Neil Diamond's Movie Album. Walter, there may be hope for you yet.

* * *

Standing at the window, staring out into the night. He heard her walk up behind him, felt her gently touch his shoulder. "Is everything OK, Walter?"

You will not turn around and grab her like a Neanderthal and kiss her senseless. Hang on, man - one cup of coffee and then you can run for home and take matters in hand.

"Yeah, sure Sc...Dana. I'm fine" He felt her run her hand down his arm, then her fingers intertwining with his. A faint shiver told him he was in trouble - please, God, don't let her have noticed. He turned as she tugged on his hand.

"Come on and sit down, Walter. The coffee will be ready in a minute." He followed her and sat down on one end of the couch. Then she sat down...

...right next to him. So close he could feel her body heat.

"Walter?" He tried to gather his rapidly scattering wits.

"Yes, Dana?" Control, Walter, control.

"Can I ask you to do me a favor?"

Anything. Pearls, silks, Kersh's head on a platter...

"Sure, Dana. What is it?" The British Crown jewels, re-plumbing your kitchen sink, a trip to the Moon on gossamer wings...

"I need you to stop treating me like I'm made of glass and put your arms around me."

Anything but that.

"Walter?" She looked up at his face, turning towards him. He was staring at his hands, frozen in his lap. "Walter, what's wrong?"

"I ..." He struggled for words. "That's not a real good idea, Dana."

She smiled, and took his hands in her own. "Why not, Walter?" Her voice was low, soft, gently teasing.

"Because..."

"Because what, Walter?"

He shook himself like a dog shedding water, and tried to get up. But Dana would not let go of his hands. She smoothed the backs with her thumbs, rubbing slowly across his knuckles. A quiet sigh escaped him. "What, Walter?"

"Because - if I do that, I can't promise I'll let go, Dana." He still stared down at his hands in hers.

"But I don't want you to let me go, Walter." She shifted and turned, placing herself squarely in his lap, bringing his stiff arms around her waist.

Oh God - those eyes. Those impossibly sea-colored eyes. Looking straight into his like...like...

...a woman in love?

Walter Skinner groaned and gave in to the inevitable. Wrapping his arms around Dana, he kissed her - gently at first, then as her mouth opened, deepening the kiss as their tongues met and carressed each other. He felt her hands slide up his neck and around the back of his head, sending a shiver of delight down his spine as she caressed him. Finally, he had to come up for air, and she made a small sound of protest as he separated his lips from hers.

"Sshhh. Let me catch my breath woman, or I'm going to pass out on your couch."

"Oh, we can't have that, now can we. I want you wide awake and at attention for what comes next. Although..." she smiled as she gently squirmed on his lap,"...the 'at attention' part of the requirement doesn't seem to be a problem."

Walter felt his face blossom with heat almost equal to that under Dana Scully's backside, but he smiled down at her. "Oh, never a problem there."

"That's reassuring, Walter. I think we should take this somewhere softer, don't you?"

"That's one of your more endearing qualities, Agent Scully - your keen head for strategy and logistics."

* * *

Walter laid in Dana Scully's bed, her body curled around his. He was sleepy, but he didn't want to sleep just yet. He wanted to revel in the moment - allow himself to rejoice in what he had found when he had made love to the beautiful woman next to him. Her quiet breathing reassured him that she was really there, that he wasn't imagining this in one of his more extravagant sexual fantasies.

Well, Walter, you got what you wanted.

Yes, I think I did, this time.

She's a handful, no doubt about that. But worth the effort. No doubt about that, either.

Shhhh! Listen - she's doing it again!

Walter smiled as he heard the delicate whispering that had started him down this path a few days ago in his office. His name, on her lips, interspersed with tiny moans and whimpers. For the rest of his life, he would treasure this sound.

The sound of Dana Scully, talking in her sleep.


End file.
